A Guard's Life
by TolkienScribe
Summary: How does one perceive royalty and military officers? A short look at Oropher, Thranduil, Legolas and their people from another's point of view. Complete. Do not own LOTR. Please read and review! Part of the Green Leaves Universe. Rechecked and updated.


**Author's Note:**

Do not own LOTR.

Constructive criticism is welcome.

No serious plot.

Enjoy!

**Do not forget to review!**

**~S~**

_Greenwood the Great,_

_Second Age,_

Mithon stood straight and tall in the corridor just outside the King's study. He had been standing there for hours and the stormy weather outside the Halls matched his mood. He scowled, feeling annoyed. This place stifled him. He had a firm view that elves, no matter who they were, did not belong in mountains where there was no light of the stars. He felt he was comfortable out in the forest, standing guard while the Warriors took their rest. It was a difficult life as any of the guards but he had no complains for he was under the stars and the Warriors were decent and took their own fair share.

But the orcs were becoming restless and times were hard and dangerous. Oropher pulled his people back into his son's Halls, and when it became much more dangerous, he called other settlements to come into the safety of the Halls. As a result he was stationed there, under the orders of Oropher's son, Thranduil.

He did not directly speak to the Crown Prince. Instead, he only saw him from a distance. Golden hair fell over strongly built shoulders. His features were sharp but comely and there was hint of carefree mischief about him. There something in Thranduil though, that spoke of exactly how serious he could be when the time came. Oropher was regal in manner, and everything about him was a blend of sophistication and carefulness.

But in the past two months that he spent in the Halls, he made no friends. He felt a little lost sometimes, but he kept on with his duties silently. He met the last part of the line of Oropher. Legolas had a startling resemblance with his father and grandfather, though some differences still kept them apart. Legolas was leaner than his father with openness in his manners. He was more like a young captain barely out of his youth.

It was some days later, when he found himself surrounded by some Warriors.

"You look like a hawk lost its prey." One of them said lightly. "Come and join us down at the practicing fields!" He tried to refuse, but they would not hear of it. So he went down with them. Guards, foot soldiers and spear holders had much in common with the Warriors and they usually trained together.

Once they reached the fields, the Warriors introduced themselves to him quickly, but the names were difficult to remember and soon he forgot them. The Warriors were quite comfortable as they loitered around by the fences as they watched the sword play. They passed comments over one or the other. Most of the comments were good-natured though some turned for the worst as some participants came up that they did not like. Then there was a shout and they turned to see Thranduil come up, wearing faded clothes for practice with a sword hanging from his belt. Typically, the conversation soon shifted to Thranduil.

"He is an evil one." One of the Warriors said.

"He keeps very high expectations from us." Another explained to Mithon.

"I did not practice any of my footwork for a few days. I am worried what will become of me if Thranduil suddenly decided to inspect _me._"

"He must be a hard person to impress." Mithon found himself saying. The Warriors looked at him, startled.

"Why would you think that?" One of them asked in surprise. Mithon himself looked just as surprised. He stared back at them in surprise. He realized that the Warriors, in spite of their words, were fiercely loyal to the Crown Prince. It puzzled him.

"**Warriors!"**

The voice shocked him. He turned, nearly falling in his haste. The Warriors immediately responded, forming ranks with their hands on the hilts of their swords. He saw Thranduil standing tall, his cloak gone and even in his worn-out clothing, there was an unmistakable cloak of power. This was not just a prince. This was a leader. The face was still youthful but his features were now serious, all signs of mischief gone.

What issued next was spectacular. The Warriors took the fields and the training commanded by Thranduil was, in one word, _beautiful._Every move was precise and concise, and very lethal.

Some hours passed by and Mithon decided to leave. But as he moved backwards, he did not realize Thranduil was making his rounds and he bumped straight into the prince. Turning, Mithon instantly recognized him and blushed. Thranduil grabbed his shoulder to steady him and he shifted away a little.

"What have they been telling you?" Thranduil asked, raising a brow. "The worst thing I can do is force training and I only do that with my Warriors."

There was hint of possessiveness in his voice. His Warriors, as if he would not suffer to be taken away from them.

"Come," Thranduil said. "Let us see what you can do with your blade."

He was alarmed at the thought, for he was sure to make a fool of himself, but Thranduil could not be persuaded. He finally took his stance against a young Warrior. Within half an hour of arduous fighting, Mithon found the tip of his opponent's blade resting lightly against his collarbone.

"Not bad!" Thranduil said, clapping his hands. "Impressive. You can do better, if you force your mind to it."

Mithon looked at the prince as Thranduil clapped his hand on his shoulder and offered him a smile. He felt himself relax. Perhaps Thranduil's Halls was not as bad as they seemed.

oOo

"You are an ungrateful, misbegotten piece of weed!"

Mithon's eyes widened in disbelief. Thranduil stood before him, shaking a fist at a tree before him. The tree was not impressed, however. It swung another branch at him, smacking him squarely at the shoulder. The Warriors looked on, laughing hard as Thranduil got up and raised a torrent of words that he doubted the king would approve of.

He heard a soft chuckle behind him. He turned to see Oropher standing behind him, arms crossed and a mirthful smile on his face.

"Your Majesty!"

"My Lord would suffice." Oropher corrected. "I do not know when my son will remember that the trees have an upper hand against us."

"Is this a normal occurrence?" Mithon asked faintly. He could not believe someone with royal blood could be so… normal.

"It is." Oropher said. Then raising his voice to be heard over Thranduil's useless threats, he called out to his son, "That is enough, my son! Leave the tree be. You have insulted its parentage enough."

Thranduil huffed and turned around, intending to march back to where his fellow Warriors stood. For a good measure, the tree suddenly raised one of its many long, gnarled roots, successfully catching the elf and making him fall face down on the ground. The Warriors laughed harder this time and when Thranduil got up, he was laughing too. Then he did something that made Mithon's jaw drop. Thranduil returned to the tree's side, bowing low and formally asking for forgiveness. Oropher smiled as one of the branches bent down to caress the prince's head before lifting.

"Do not be fooled by his ways." Oropher said, as if reading Mithon's thoughts. "He is very caring for your forest, but once in a while he does lose his patience."

oOo

_Mirkwood,_

_Third Age,_

He stood outside the King's study, the rainy weather matching his mood. It felt like any other day he would be standing guard outside the study, but this time it felt as if there was sadness on the Halls. He could hear no distant shouts of laughter. He could hear no chatter echoing through the corridors. Everything else was just the same; the corridors were well-aired, the lanterns were shining bright but he heard nothing.

The King was dead, and there was no body to bury. The Prince came home, shaken with a look of haunting in his eyes, his son trailing silently behind him. Galion had ordered him to keep a close watch outside the new King's rooms or study, where Thranduil went. He complied, following him like a shadow but he was careful not to be intrusive.

This time he was particularly worried. Thranduil had been in the study for hours on end. He had left his rooms at the break of dawn, and Mithon followed him silently until the King entered the study. He stood outside and now the time was well after noon.

He was briefly considering the idea of fetching someone when the advisor of the late King walked towards him briskly. Thorontur stopped at the sight of Mithon. For the past few weeks, seeing the face of this particular guard anywhere usually meant Thranduil was close by. The advisor sighed and asked him, "How long has he been in there?"

"From the break of dawn," he replied, feeling a little relieved that someone finally came to check on the king.

Thorontur silently pressed his hand on the door and opened it slowly. He glanced in, and Mithon was surprised to see no light coming from the study. It was dark, and in the stormy weather like this, there was a need of lights in the Halls. Thorontur pulled out and shook his head.

"Will you stay here till I fetch someone?"

Mithon nodded wordlessly, and Thorontur surprised him by clapping his hand on his shoulder before leaving. This time, Thorontur's pace was faster.

Nearly an hour passed by, and it had started to rain. He could hear the noise of the rain and thunder outside the halls. He almost laughed sourly. It was ridiculous for it to rain when the Halls were drowning in its grief. The superstitious Race of Man would think that the world was shedding its tears for the fallen King and his soldiers.

He heard footsteps towards him and he raised his eyebrows in surprise as he recognized the elf coming to him. Legolas Thranduilion seemed to have aged, his face set in a grim expression. He nodded once, almost absently at Mithon before carefully opening the door just as Thorontur had done earlier. He glanced inside, and whatever the younger elf saw softened his expression.

Legolas entered, and the door was wide open enough for Mithon to see. He could not help himself; he was worried as well for the King. What he saw astounded him. This was not mischievous looking Crown Prince he had first set eyes on. This was a grieving elf, sitting blankly in a deserted study with eyes that stared into space. Thranduil jumped at the feel of his son's hand on his shoulder. Legolas spoke to him, though Mithon could not comprehend his words. Thranduil's expression crumbled, and father and son embraced. Mithon turned away, relief coming into his features. At least now, Thranduil had given into some of his grief.

Legolas persuaded his father to return to his chambers, and the whole time he accompanied him. Mithon trailed uselessly behind, feeling awkward and intrusive as he watched the scene before him. He stayed outside, until he was joined with Legolas. The Prince closed the door silently.

"He is asleep." Legolas said in hushed tones. "See to it that he is not to be disturbed under any pretence. My father is strong but he does not fool me. He has not slept for many nights. Make sure he wakes on his own accord and not that of anyone else."

"Understood," Mithon said. He had replied so firmly that Legolas smiled.

"I must thank you." Legolas said to him. "Your constant vigilance wherever my father went did not go amiss. After my father has rested, you must go and rest as well. Do not argue with me-" Legolas added when Mithon started to shake his head. "I do not one as loyal as you become exhausted. I am sure I can find someone to take your place for some hours. You need to eat and sleep. And we all need time with our families."

"As you wish, my lord," he said.

"Legolas," the prince corrected. "My name is Legolas."

oOo

"Mithon, the next person to enter my study, I give you full leave to throw him out." Thranduil said to the guard standing outside his study. Mithon gave a small smile and nodded. Thranduil glanced at him and scowled.

"Even my guards laugh at my misery." Thranduil muttered under his breath. "They think it is funny that I toil and work all day in this accursed study. Ha! I would like to see your condition when you go through five meetings before lunch."

"Sire," Mithon protested immediately. "I would never laugh at your misery."

"What he means is that he would never laugh of it at your face. Once he is back with his fellow guards, then yes." Hanon spoke up, handing the king a set of scrolls. Baffled, Mithon opened his mouth to refute the Head Commander's words but then closed it again.

Finally have mercy on the poor guard caught between the pair's teasing, Thranduil relented.

"Do not listen to me, for now." Thranduil said. "I am simply irritable at the moment."

"Comes with his old age," Hanon sniped.

"You can throw him out." Thranduil said, shaking a scroll in Hanon's direction. Mithon did not say anything, wishing desperately to be dismissed. There was a faint twinkle in the King's eye and he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew full well how much Mithon wanted to disappear from the spot but was enjoying himself too much to do so.

"Throw me out and I will make sure you find yourself in trouble, guard." Hanon said, mock-sternly.

"If you do not throw him out, I will throw you into the dungeons." Thranduil threatened. Mithon felt himself wishing to be a foot soldier. A life constantly endangered by spiders was worth more than this headache!

Fortunately for him, he did not need to answer either of them. Thorontur came in. The calm advisor had been his rescuer for the past few days, protecting him from awkward situations such as this.

"Leave him alone." Thorontur said, giving a chiding look both to the King and the Head Commander. "He deserves nothing of your indirect teasing. Dismissed," he added, looking at Mithon. "Get out of here before you find yourself tangled in their web again."

Mithon did not need to be told twice. The elf fled. The door was just closing when he heard Thranduil's voice rise up in fondness, "Poor elf! He has been by my side every day. I shouldn't have teased him so but I could not help myself-"

"Sire!" Thorontur's voice chided the King but he could not hear more for the door was now fully closed.

Mithon sighed and took off his helmet, releasing his freely flowing black hair from its confinement. He tucked the helmet under his arm and loosened his collar with his other hand, walking slowly away from the study as he did so.

He looked up to see Legolas walk up to him. The prince was obviously planning to just go past him but the elf stopped and raised his brows. Taking in the guard's appearance, Legolas chuckled.

"Did my father keep you for his amusement?"

"Is it really so prominent?" Mithon found himself asking. He looked down at his clothes, but the uniform was straight with not a single sight of a wrinkle.

"It is not that." Legolas explained. "You always come out of my father's study with a worried expression, good Mithon! However," he looked up just in time to see Legolas wink at him. "I might be able to find a way to tease my father back."

"I do not think-" Mithon said, mildly alarmed. The last thing he wanted was to get caught into another pair's net for teasing again! These elves holding high positions! The entire lot of them was insane, always pranking one another and checking who had the upper hand, regardless of how friendly the rivalry was.

"Too late," Legolas interrupted, laughing. "My plans have already been formed in the instant of your silence! Thank you for giving my Rangers and me an excuse!"

Mithon opened and closed his mouth as the prince simply left him standing there in the corridor. He then sighed and rubbed his face wearily. He needed rest, and he might as well get it. With the plans his authorities had for him, he felt as if he were going to need it.

oOo

Mithon opened the door to let out the dwarf representative from the King's council chamber. He glanced at Thranduil, who was poring over the map, now holding new markers for whatever the dwarf had held the meeting for. He was just going out when the king's words stopped him.

"When was the last time you had taken some days for yourself?"

"My lord," Mithon said, surprised at the sudden question. Thranduil glanced at him for a moment, his misty grey eyes kindly but observant. "It has been a while, my lord." Mithon said.

"Take a few days off, then." Thranduil said, returning his gaze to his map.

"My lord!"

"I will not take nay for an answer." Thranduil said firmly. He looked up and his face softened a bit. "I am not dismissing you, Master Mithon. You need your time for yourself. You may resume your duties once you have taken time for yourself."

"As you wish, my lord." Mithon said. "Thank you."

Thranduil only smiled. Mithon left the study. Over the years, he had gained a quiet sort of respect from the king and his advisor. His son knew him as well. They had never discussed anything personally with one another. Everything remained strictly work-related. But it was mixed with a little bit of friendship. They had used him for teasing endlessly, though all of it was harmless and purely related with fun. They were well-mannered, making sure none of their words were insulting or mocking.

He took a week off, and refused to take more in spite of Thranduil's insistence. While it felt good, he could not wholly relax completely. The Battle of Five Armies was won only a few days ago. But the evil was spreading fast in their forest. Thranduil constantly rode out with his Warriors to lead one hunt after another to drive them out.

One of the hunts was particularly worrying. When the company returned, Thranduil was not on his horse. Instead, one of the Warriors had Thranduil propped against his body. The king looked dazed, hand clasped tightly against his side to stop the bleeding of a wound.

The healers said it was not a lethal wound, though they insisted the king rest for a few days. Mithon did not hear anything of the king later, except that he was well.

One day, while he still had two more days to go, some impulse forced him to go back to the study. He did not know why he felt like going there, except it was a strong impulse. So he grabbed only his sword and went. He did not wear his uniform and his hair was free. Once he reached the study, he gave a knock and entered.

The study was empty but then Mithon noticed some robes peeking out from behind the King's table. He went there, only to find Thranduil sprawled unconsciously across the floor.

"My lord!"

Blood seeped slowly from beneath the king, and Mithon quickly pulled him up, calling out for help.

Thranduil could not stay in his chambers for a long time. Everyone knew that. He had felt restless and decided to go read some reports in the study without letting anyone know. But while reaching out for the papers, he managed to pull the wound so hard that it reopened and the pain of it caused him to lose unconsciousness.

It was his last day of respite before resuming his duties and he found himself facing Legolas outside the kitchens.

"I must thank you." Legolas said to him after the initial greetings. "You came just in time for my father; else he would have lost too much blood."

"How is the king?"

"Well," Legolas said, laughing lightly. He was holding a satchel under his arm. Seeing Mithon's gaze toward it, Legolas explained, "A friend of mine is leaving for patrol. I offered to ready his supplies."

"Ah." He was now very much used to the idea of royals performing menial tasks.

"Would you like to visit my father?"

"I do not think-"

Legolas would not hear of it. An hour later, Mithon found himself standing by Thranduil's bed in the healing wing.

"So it is your fault I am stuck here." Thranduil said gruffly. Thorontur sat beside the elf, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"It is your fault you were out of bed in the first place." Thorontur snapped. Mithon bit back a smile. There were really few times that he had seen Thorontur lose his temper. Thranduil smiled up at Mithon.

"I thank you, though." The king said, reaching out and taking Mithon's hand. "If you had not come, I do not think anyone would have noticed me gone."

"That is right," Thorontur said, a hint of alarm entering his voice. "I had no plans of coming into the study until well after evening. Imagine, Thranduil, what would have happened-"

"Stop showing your emotions, Thorontur. It does not suit you." Thranduil said.

"I will express myself however I please!" Thorontur snapped. "And what do you learn from this little mistake of yours, Sire?"

"I will not let my guard take any more days off." Thranduil replied solemnly.

In spite of Thorontur's renewed glare, Mithon laughed.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Update 2015: This one-shot has been checked and reread for mistakes in a long project of doing this for all my stories. I am just trying to make this more enjoyable for my readers. :)

**Please leave a review!**


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